


Maybe, Almost

by grenadinehart (CompletelyCreative)



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M, Love/Hate, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7379878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompletelyCreative/pseuds/grenadinehart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t like it was a secret or anything.  Any ditz with a peanut for a brain could figure it out.  It was simple fact that there wasn’t anyone at Abigail Adams that Farkle Minkus hated more than Riley Matthews.  The only problem was that no one knew why.  She was determined to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe, Almost

**Author's Note:**

> From a lovely prompt, a combination of "That was the moment I knew" and "Got any more excuses?"
> 
> [here](http://grenadinehart.tumblr.com/ask>Send%20me%20some!</a>%20%20Prompt%20list%20<a%20href=).

It wasn’t like it was a secret or anything. Any ditz with a peanut for a brain could figure it out. It was simple fact that there wasn’t anyone at Abigail Adams that Farkle Minkus hated more than Riley Matthews. They were polar opposites from the first grade. Riley, the over-optimistic singsong who “never shut up” (kind words from Billy Ross) with only one friend, and Farkle, the smooth, suave genius who was admired by all and did no wrong. There was only one thing they had in common for the first five years of being in the same homeroom: neither had ever gotten a bad grade. Competition was strong between the two until the seventh grade, and all of a sudden they had two things in common: they both shared the same friends.

If you asked Riley, she would totally huff about how it was she who saw Lucas first on the subway. If you asked Farkle, Lucas totally sat next to him in history (and every other class for that matter…), thus giving him the right to be best friends with him. If you asked Lucas, he liked both of them the same, maybe in different ways, but… neither of them would leave him alone, so he went along with it. If you asked Maya, she was just tired of the silent fumes from separate sides of Topanga’s, and picking sides. If you asked Zay, there was definitely something else going on there. Every time Riley walked into the room, Farkle would slouch in his seat and become the moodiest person on the block. He had matured enough to stop heckling her and calling her names, but he almost never directly talked to her, and when he did, it was curt, too the point, and often had unnecessarily rude language. Everyone knew that Farkle hated Riley Matthews, but no one knew why. When Lucas and Zay asked him one time, he “got a call” from his father and suddenly had to go.

And as for how Riley Matthews felt about Farkle Minkus… well, she hadn’t really ever told anyone (save Maya) that she had always sort of hoped he’d sweep her off of her feet once… and he did, but she never considered getting tripped as romantic. But nothing knew how to crush her dreams faster than his scowl whenever he saw her… they just weren’t each other’s kind of people, she supposed. And Lucas happened to be the exact kind of person both of them liked.

So they saw each other every single day for their entire elementary and middle school careers, and high school was no exception. If their schedules didn’t match up, then they were sure to see each other at Topanga’s, or the movies, or the Matthews’, or sometimes just on the sidewalk. Riley, of course, secretly didn’t mind, but it looked like Farkle was living in his own personal Hell every time they crossed paths. And while it had become a sort of normality with the rest of the group, it had become Riley’s   
personal mission to find out why.

One thing that Riley was actually quite good at, was confrontation. She truly never did “shut up” (thanks, Billy). She was also quite good at observation, and very good at scheming. She even had a hot pink moleskin notebook for this express project. For the past few years, things had been generally the same between the two, until recently. Lately, things had been… different. Farkle didn’t immediately move when Riley sat next to him. He opened the door for her instead of letting it slam in her face. He even bought her a smoothie once -- no, twice -- and didn’t even let her pay him back. Sure, he still expressed a general distaste for her, but it was changing… and she noticed. But they still hadn’t hung out just the two of them… they hadn’t even been the same room alone at all, for as long as they knew each other. Riley was determined to make that happen. Scheme. And once they were locked in a janitorial closet or something, then she’d make him talk. Confrontation.

The project had been in motion for about two months now. Every time Riley would ask Farkle to come over to study, or get smoothies, he’d always worm his way out of it. But she could tell that his excuses were starting to spread thin. The first three weeks, they were pretty solid -- family reunions, a wedding, a funeral, a spelling bee -- but they started getting weak, and both knew it. Last week, he had to travel to the north pole to figure out business with the “family penguins” or whatever… the only option left is to say he’s getting his casket fitted to get out of seeing her. 

Riley didn’t hide her smug smile when she looked up from her magazine to see Farkle walking into Topanga’s. It was the first day of summer, and yesterday she asked him what he was doing today; of course, penguins somehow came into conversation, and yet here he was, in New York City, no snow or foggy breath. He froze at the sight of her sitting on the couch, iced latte in hand, and black coffee sitting next to her.

“Riley…” he cleared his throat, “what are ya doing here?”

“This is my mother’s cafe.” His face flashed red.

“Right. Are you here with someone, then?”

“No.”

“Then who is that for?” he pointed to the coffee. Riley gave a light laugh.

“You.”

“Wha-- wh--- me?” he stammered, “ut… but…”

“What? Got any more excuses?”

Farkle’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, before turning on his heel to walk out, stopping in his tracks, turning back, and clenching his fists helplessly. Riley patted the seat next to her, and he obeyed without protest.

“So,” she played with her straw. “Looks like you’re free after all.”

“Yeah, about that penguin thing…”

“Why do you hate me?” She cut him off. Get to the chase.

“Uh… uh, well, I-- I don’t hate you…”

“But you don’t like me. Why?” Farkle looked around the shop, like he was expecting cameras or balloons.

“Er, listen, Riley, I don’t think--”

“You’ve never liked me. You always called me names and tripped me and isolated me when we were little. We weren’t friends, even when we were friends with each other’s friends. You never talk to me, but you talk about me. Why? Why do you do all of that?”

“I never called you names,” Farkle muttered.

“What?”

“I never called you names, Riley. And I tripped you accidentally, because I was getting long legs.”

“But you still--”

“Hate you? No Riley, I don’t. I really don’t hate you. I never did.”

“But… you never talked to me, or even got to know me.” Farkle scoffed. “You know nothing about me, Farkle.”

“Bullshit. I know that your favorite color is purple. I know your favorite team is the Knicks. I know you love drawing cats--”

“That doesn’t prove anything--”

“Fine, you want me to prove something? How about the fact that you’re scared to death of thunderstorms? Huh? Oh, but I thought only Maya knew that… NOPE! Or, or the fact that you can’t pick a favorite fairy tale because you love happy endings too much, or that you have over 1200 A’s? Or that when you’re at the movies, you laugh and scream, even when you’re worried people can hear. How do you think I know all of these things, Riley? I pay attention to you -- sometimes too much attention -- and   
sometimes you’re the only person in the room that I see.”

“But then… why do you avoid me?”

Farkle looked at his hands and sighed. There was a silence as he cracked his knuckles in thought, and it felt like the shop emptied of sound, even though the hour was busy. 

“Because you don’t know how to leave me alone.”

“Okay, that makes no sense--”

“No, it makes perfect sense, Riley. Because when I’m with you, I see you, and when I’m not with you, I see you.” Riley held his gaze, her latte forgotten.

“What?”

“I think about you all the time. To me… you are perfect.”

It was in that moment that she realised: he loved her, just like she loved him.

Maybe, possibly, even more.

**Author's Note:**

> My [Tumblr](http://grenadinehart.tumblr.com/)


End file.
